Perfect Insanity
by Terond76
Summary: How did the Painted Doll become herself? And how did she capture the cold, dark heart of the Ringmaster of Hell? Lucifer/Painted Doll, Lucifer/Wick, and many more pairings, dark, edgy.
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: I did have the pleasure of going to see The Devil's Carnival. So bear with me if I do not remember exact details-but I tried my best. Any questions about it or if you want a synopsis of the movie just holler._

_~T_

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Prologue

Burnt popcorn, circus lullabies, and the screams of ardent and scared children filled the empty Carnival grounds. The dirt was stamped with footprints of those who did not leave the Carnival. Fireworks busted over head as a timid blonde woman slinked her way into The Devil's Carnival. A lot of red plastered the tents, and it was mixed with vague yellows and blacks. She could ever so often hear the snickering of little girls and at some point she thought they were mocking laughs. Her ballet shoes were becoming dirtied—even black as she stepped in front of a tent. It had a large clown etched on the front, and it smiled wickedly at her. She let her fingers graze the plastic ever so gently.

How did she ever end up here?

She had never seen lights like these—most of the lightning she had back home was by candle light. That is if she ever did get a lodging room for the night. She quietly pushed back the plastic, and entered the tent. She could hear the light padding of feet, many feet. Suddenly all around her were short women dancing around her. She looked dumbfounded down at them as they sang a small tune. One of them who had a dot on her nose and porcelain like skin took her hand and led her around the whole tent.

"_You're in The Devil's Carnival . . . come one, come two, come all . . ._" The girls lightly sang in a catchy sing-songy voice. The one who had been leading her around suddenly stopped, and shoved her harshly against a mahogany door.

"_And daughters if you got them they're lot of fun . . ._" A manlier voice bellowed out behind the door. The blonde woman glanced down at the golden door handle, and then quirked an eyebrow at it. She slowly turned the knob, and stepped into the room. It appeared to be a dressing room by the enormous mirror sitting on a table that could barely hold its weight. She strutted over to it, and touched the gold on the frame. She glanced into the glass, and she could see her reflection. If she thought her shoes were just muddy she was wrong.

Her corset that had cost more than a few penance was sliced, dusty, and had less of a pink tone. Also her skirt was shorter than her usual ones. It was pink as well . . . she didn't remember buying a pink skirt. She looked back at her face, and she gasped loudly. Next to her was another face. It was more angular with a large protruding chin. The person's face was plastered in carnie make up, and he seemed to be a clown by the dark triangles framing his cornflower blue eyes. They shined the most out of his features—except for the horns he adorned. She turned around deftly, and braced herself against the creature.

"Welcome to the Carnival." The thing burred out in a low voice that reminded her of the scum she served every day . . . His hands—no claws dug into her hips just like a man's nails would when giving her a go.

"Where am I?" She squeaked out as a pointed ear pressed against her cheek.

"Didn't I just make that clear?"

"Fine, who are you?" The creature stepped back at her words, and straightened the lapels on his robe. She could spot that the red went farther than just his face. It littered his chest, and probably went even further.

"Lucifer."

The woman laughed. Oh how she laughed. She actually had never giggled as hard in her life. She had to place a hand over her mouth to try to cover the snort trying to escape. This just had to be a joke . . . Suddenly a dominant hand whipped across her face, and she could swear she heard the sound of breaking glass. She flew to the ground, and caught herself before she could face plant. She could hear the creature chuckling above her, and she watched as his sandaled feet moved glass around that was on the floor.

"Just as breakable as a little doll, _Jezebel_." Lucifer seethed as loomed above her.

"Help . . ." The girl croaked as she held her aching face.

"Always the perpetual victim, eh?" He stated as he strutted around the girl. "Most of your customers like the damsel in distress."

"Shut up!"

"As you command." Lucifer remarked before snapping his clawed fingers. She was about to beg for help again, but she couldn't find her voice! She tried standing, but the pain radiated so badly throughout her face. She groaned as she went to her knees. The man stood in front of her, and he grinned down at her.

"A familiar position methinks." He said cruelly before striding over to the door to an adjoining room. "I'd start thinking about an act for tonight, lovely Painted Doll."

The door slammed loudly as she brought herself to her feet. She glanced back into the devilish mirror, and she let out a soundless scream at her reflection. Her face had black mars and cracks that had not been their previously. She touched the cracks, and watched as part of her face crumbled to the ground. Her azure eyes blinked back the tears as she touched her reflection . . . how had she become a painted porcelain doll?

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_Author's Note: I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	2. The Bird in Borrowed Feathers

_Author's Note: Fun fact; the scorpion and the frog in fact is not really an Aesop fable—it originates from West Africa and India . . . Come on, Zdunich! Read up! Apparently it was written in Sanskrit in BCE times. The next chapters will all be related to Aesop Fable, going along with the tradition of Carnival. Enjoy your carnival goodness. I also better get some good reviews because I spent hours reading 100s of the 656 Aesop's Fables just for you guys!_

_~T_

_P.S. - I am still weird-ed out by all you expressing your attraction to Zdunich. I can't even see him like that! He is like a brother figure more to me than an attractive man . . . oh well, each to their own._

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_**Chapter 1 – The Bird in Borrowed Feathers**__ (Borrowed finery brings humiliation . . .)_

The monotonous ritual of getting dressed in the morning tired Painted Doll every morning. She stood in front of her own golden mirror, and stared at her broken reflection. One outfit she had been given—just one. She casted a look of anger at the pink tutu resting on her bed, and crossed her arms over her nightgown. She would not go through this anymore. She stomped out of her dressing room/bedroom, and flew wildly into the bedroom of the Woe Maidens.

None of them were in sight probably tending to their dearest Lucifer in more inappropriate way. She moseyed on over to the large wardrobe holding their clothing, and wretched it open. A lot black littered the inside, and she snatched the first thing she saw. It was a corset that would no doubt be too big for her frail frame, but she wasn't in the mood for negativity. She was in the mood for change.

Living in hell, literally, had not what the people of the mortal realm would tell you. They would preach of demon with six arms and horns lashing at your backs with sinful whips until you bled from your eyes. This couldn't be all there was to hell . . . Painted Doll thought as she grabbed a black skirt to match her corset along with a pair of green stripped knee-highs.

Hell was meant for sinners, but had she crossed the line so far that she had become one? Of course she was raised Catholic, but Catholic teachings did not stop her from becoming a whore in the streets of London. She shimmied on the skirt after discarding her nightgown, and then pulled the corset over her head. She spent a few good minutes tightening the strings around her back before leaving the Woe Maiden's tent.

She strutted out onto the ring, and watched as everyone gave her a stare and a slight giggle. The Maiden's especially laughed at the bony figure of the Painted Doll. The men such as Twin and Scorpion only wished that she would eat more so the curves of her would show. Ticketmaster who stood stoically beside Lucifer observed as Painted Doll marched up to them with a confident stature. He could hear his master chuckle lowly above him. Ticketmaster glanced up to see Lucifer's giggling face. Lucifer grinned wickedly as Doll stood before him.

"And what is this?"

"I'm trying new things out."

"Why?" Ticketmaster butted in.

"When a place like this is always stuck in time, don't you need change?"

"Doll I haven't had change in centuries." Lucifer commented as he circled her. "You look sickly in this outfit. No man would ever want such a bony creature such as yourself. The only way you'd ever be of service to me in this clothing would be if you were a succubus, but you aren't. You are a beautiful Painted Doll that needs to wear flattering clothing not rags."

"But you wear—"

"I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. I can adorn whatever I want."

Painted Doll stared down at her bare feet in disappointment. She had only wanted to change herself—she just wanted to feel different. All she had done was humiliate herself in front of her peers and now she would never get her dignity back. She'd have to work even harder to try to get the Carnies to like her.

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_Author's Note - I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	3. The Ass and his Masters

_Author's Note: __Get your tickets ladies and gentlemen for the retour! It's well worth it and we want them to get money so we can have **MORE!**_

_~T_

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**_Chapter 2 – The Ass and his Masters _**_(He that finds discontentment in one place is not likely to find happiness in another . . .)_

She primped herself in front of her mirror. Her broken face reflected in the cracked mirror making her feel even worse about her appearance. She touched the glass again, and then turned away from the evil contraption. She was the only who had a mirror except the all mighty Lucifer. She hadn't seen him since he had cruelly jested her clothing. She dressed in her normal attire, and then exited her tent.

Fireworks were a common thing at the Carnival. She heard them often, and their blasts usually lulled her to sleep. There suddenly was a foreign noise to her ear. She heard a growling coming from the prop tent. She carefully slinked her way over to the large tent, and poked her head inside. She saw a lanky man kicking various items in the room. The one he was working on at the moment was a wood cut out of a frog.

The young man had slicked back hair that was black as night. His pale face was contorted in an expression of anger as he suddenly took a knife from his belt and flicked it at a doll. He continued having his hissy fit until he turned to see The Painted Doll staring at him.

"Well, hello, doll."

"How do you know my name?"

"I don't, sugar, is it doll by any chance?" He said with suave tone as he advanced towards her. He touched her broken face slowly before a booming voice coming from outside the tent.

"Scorpion!" The low rubble of Lucifer's voice pierced Doll's ears. She slowly slinked against the wall when he entered the tent. The man she had been talking to strangely looked at the fallen angel as he sneered at Doll.

"Ticket-keeper is looking for you. I can't have you under my wing while tending to this envious beauty." Lucifer praised Scorpion as he brushed off Doll. Inside she was secretly doing happy dances as Lucifer placed clawed hand on Scorpion's back and led him through the Carnival.

Ticket-keeper waltzed into the room, and grinned at Doll. He had an odd appearance with his hooked noise and long greasy hair. He leered at her as he placed a rough hand against her cheek.

"My, my, what a beauty you are. I'm so glad I get you _all _to myself." He whispered into her ear. Out of reaction Doll harshly pushed Ticket-keeper away, but his right hand caught her. His left came hard against her cheek which cracked. Doll could see the small pieces of glass littering the floor as she looked up at her attacker.

"You are so beautiful." He continued as he pounced on her. Doll had come to the conclusion as Ticket-keeper began to forcefully undress that changing masters always wasn't the best. She'd rather have an controlling and dominant _creature _than an abusive rapist.

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_Author's Note: I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	4. The Wolf and the Crane

_Author's Note: Hello, once again! Sorry I have been busy with work out on the east coast, and haven't had the time. I ironically was in town the night of another Carnival showing so I did utilize that moment to go see it again. It was of course fantastic. DVD comes out on October 23rd, Bousman told me. I'm still sadden forever that the Repo prequel won't be able to be made until it's in public domain so that means not until 2028, but never fear there is always a second episode of Carnival on the way!_

_~T_

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**_Chapter 3 - The Wolf and the Crane _**_(In serving the wicked, expect no reward, and be thankful if you escape injury for your pains . . .)_

Black eye liner ran down her face just how she liked it. The darkness of it contrasted against the ghostly paleness of her skin, and it shined out to angle her features. Her doted red nose twitched back and forth as she thought about what she would wear. Her usually was something that He would expect. She glided her way over to her wardrobe, and began to fling clothing around. She found a gorgeous black knee length dress that had never been in her closet before. It was something she would have worn in her past life something her father would have greatly disproved against.

She carefully slipped it on, and admired the way it clung to her shape. Her feet hadn't need any clothing since she would just be undressed anyway. It's not like He looked at her feet. She giggled bubbly to herself before trotting away from her full length mirror, and out of the tent. She pranced down the dirt sidewalk with her head up in clouds, but she ran into something solid. The 'wall' made an over dramatic oof'! as he hit the floor. The Magician haphazardly laid across the ground with Mr. Bunny innocently sniffing his nose.

"Oi! Wick! Watch it!" He said in his high voice. It always seemed like he swallowed a batch of helium before going anywhere. His voice was even higher than hers.

"Sorry, I was in a hurry."

"Got a hot date with the Dark Lord?"

"Oh, shut up!" Wick growled as she pushed him away from her, and continued her trek to His tent. She saw the Painted Doll leering from the top of the ferris wheel as she approached the biggest tent in the lot. She quietly padded her way inside, and knocked on the wooden door.

"Enter." A gravelly voice called. She opened the mahogany door, and closed it just as softly behind her. His chambers weren't any different from the other Carnies except for the extravagant make-up station he had in the far left corner. She swore he sat by it all day just thinking. He never left his chambers, and she had no idea why.

"Ah! Wick! Just the girl I wanted to see." He grinned as he turned towards her. She noticed he was not wearing any lipstick like he usual did along with his get-up.

"It's Tuesday, sir. I'd thought I come by, and see if you needed any assistance." Wick cooed as she let a porcelain colored finger run down his bare chest. His skin was red as lava, but cold as blizzard. He was still an enigma to her even though she visited him every other day. The other days were taken up by The Painted Doll.

The Painted Doll to her was just his punching bag. She'd always flee the tent in tears and a new crack to her delicate face. Doll had been trying for weeks to get Him to take her back under his command. It was no secret that Ticket Keeper raped her in the night and played love sick puppy by day. He was fablous liar, and sometimes Wick fell for it. She had learned though to never want the Ticket Keeper in any way, shape, or form.

"My lipstick . . . I can't do it this morning. My bones ache and are shaking."

"Yes, sir." She smiled up at him as she pushed him down in his prized chair, and grasped the black lipstick in her hand. She let the tips of her finger roam the planes of his face, and he smirked as she giggled. His smile lines were gigantic, and she wondered how someone so serious all the time had laughing lines. She shook the thought off as she placed the wax tip against his lips. It was easy to pamper him. He took everything in stride, and he was easy to love as well. However she noticed it was hard for him to love back.

It hadn't been long since Doll came around. Wick noticed the looks he used to give her are now rare, but she had seen them directed at Doll a few times. When Wick first arrived to the lovely Carnival she had been treated the same way as Doll. She was beaten, bruised, and ridiculed. She had learned the hard way that to make it in the Carnival you have to fuck a few people, literally and metaphorically.

He pursed his lips to get the rest of the black wax all over his lips as Wick placed the cap back on the tube. She watched him rise, and begin to dress himself in his threads. Once he was finished he turned to see Wick with her arms crossed and one toe tapping.

"Yes, Ms. Wick?"

"Don't I get an award for helping you?" She said seductively as she sauntered closer to him. She grasped the lapels to his robe as she rose up on her tip toes.

"Don't mix gratitude and greed, little girl." He whispered quietly. Wick growled angrily as she pulled his mouth towards hers, claiming what she had fought for, for so long. She wasn't about to just let some broken porcelain doll take her dark prince away.

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_Author's Note: I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	5. Avaricious and Envious

_Author's Note: Hello sinners. I return with more Carnival lullabies. I recently had some trouble in my life, and **finally **found my Aesop Fable notes for this story. I have a 5 page list. I would love to use all of them put I find that very impossible. Have you guys ordered your limited DVD pack yet? I have! Give the boys a chance to make another, buy the disk!_

_~T_

_P.S. If I can afford it on a construction crew/starving artist salary after locating to my divorced friend's basement, so can you!_

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_**Chapter 4 - Avaricious and ****Envious** (Vices are their own punishment . . . )_

Being cool sometimes made you face your issues, your desires, or frankly the things you wouldn't give a shit about. They called him Scorpion because they swore if he touched you the drugs in his system would poison you. He combed back his hair as his booted feet clicked down Main Street. The clunkers rolled down the street blaring their horns violently at him as he flipped them off. He laughed joyfully to himself as turned on his heel into his alley. A bunch of junkies lined the walls, and they immediately recognized his presence. They all moved in one motion towards him, and he chuckled as he opened up his leather jacket.

"Santa's come to town, babies." He smirked as their eyes glossed over at the look of the pretty morphine. They went down to their knees silently begging with hands full of money. His tired eyes stared down at the junkies as he passed each junkie a vial after being paid of course. Suddenly cop sirens blared all around, and the dealer jumped up from his crouched position. The junkies spread out in an disorderly fashion, and took flight. He buttoned his coat quickly, and made haste as he trampled down the alley and up the fire escape. His apartment was located right next to his alley. It was more convenient this way, and the coppers never would have guessed the dealer lived right below his market.

He slipped in through his cracked window, and made sure to shut it. He didn't want the cold draft sweeping into his unheated apartment. There was already white snow lining the windowsill. He sighed as he threw off his coat, and watched it land into a pile of garbage. He strutted over to his mantle, and swiped a match against the grainy material. The match ignited fiercely, and he soon lit a cigarette then a few candles lining the mantle. Only a few pictures adorned the surface. Ones of forgotten family members and a few of girlfriend who had deserted him when he was at his lowest-taking his son with her.

He sighed heavily as he snatched a warm beer off the patio table he had in his dining room, and drank a hefty swig. He reached for his coat, and brought out a long syringe that he used on his junkies upfront and on himself. The needle was worn down, but he saw no fear in a dwindled down syringe. It was like any other syringe, it got the drug into his system. He loaded up a vial of morphine inside of it, and unbuckled his belt with one hand. He wrapped the worn leather around his left arm, and pulled harshly with his teeth. He lined up the end of the needle, and then plunged in the make-shift hole in his arm. A coolness washed over him after a few seconds of just pushing hard against the plunger. He sighed contently as he let his arms fall to his side and his cigarette dangle from his mouth.

"Heaven's all around you . . ." He heard a distinctly dark voice bellow out behind him. He turned his head lazily, and clamped his eyes shut as they became dizzy.

"Whose in my apartment?" He slurred as he stood. He grabbed his beer, and whipped around to face the corridor leading to his bedroom.

"Sally?" He called out. "Are you back, baby?"

Suddenly a very hot hand placed itself over his heart and the other hand ran up the side of his left arm. He groaned at the immense heat and pain as he turned on his heel. The foul creature before him stunk of elephant ears and popcorn. It almost made Scorpion more nausea than he already was.

"You wished it was her." The creature said in a mocking voice.

"Who the fuck are you? Where did you take Sally?" Scorpion growled out as he tossed the beer bottle at the creature, but his left arm painfully throbbed as he dropped the bottle to the floor.

"You took Sally . . . and Johnny."

"No! You did!" Scorpion seethed as he stumbled slightly from his equilibrium being thrown off. The creature laughed deftly as he swayed from side to side.

"Don't think vices are so good now, Scorpion?" The red demon like creature growled as he took two steps forward, and then pushed angrily against Scorpion's chest. He fell down against his floor with pain radiating throughout his heart and arm.

However when he landed he was not looking up at his ceiling, but at star filled sky. He groaned as he scratched his chest remembering the blinding pain. He glanced down at his chest only to see a scar where his heart laid under. He quickly clambered up onto his feet, and did a 360 as he processed his surroundings. Carnies danced around him singing cheerfully. He covered his sensitive ears as he took off towards the lion cages.

Lucifer sat on top of the Ferris wheel letting it idle for a moment as he watched the scorpion skittered away from his band of miscreants. He chuckled to himself as he caught his reflection in the mirror.

"I wonder which punishment he'll find more fitting drowning in morphine or finding a piece of hay in a needle stack?" Lucifer mused to himself as he started up the Ferris wheel and went on his merry way.

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_Author's Note : I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	6. Boys and Frogs

_**Author's Note : Got my DVD guys so decided to put in another chapter. Had an akin to write about some Aesop Fables! Here is a rather well known one about a rather . . . unexplored character.**_

_**~T**_

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_**Chapter 5 - Boys and Frogs**_ _(One man's pleasure is another's pain . . .)_

One man's pleasure is definitely another's pain. It was worse than watching Hobo Clown strangling Mr. Bunny the first. It was worse than entering Hell, literally. He spied carefully on the Sire and lovely Wick. Oh, how lovely she was. Swaying with grace as Sire insistently dug his horrid nails into her hips as she worked above him. Jealous was often forbidden by Sire, but he couldn't help this rage building in his stomach.

The Magician in all his wonder stood from his crouching position, and leaned his weight against the pole hiding his leering gaze. Was it fair for this . . . monstrosity to have beautiful creatures surrounding him all day?

He was an awful, awful . . . creature! He gave not one, but a second look unless they were staring at him in the mirror. The Magician had never met such a narcissistic man not one that ugly. The Magician was sure if the man maybe grew a heart he would be the epitome of gentility and grace. The Magician had all those qualities! Well, sure he was quite ungrateful for the place he had in the Carnival. He should be groveling at the Lord's knees, but that would show weakness. He would rather die than show a speckle of weakness.

He mumbled to his himself as he scratched his dirty nails against his velvet top hat. Mr. Bunny the sixth look up at him whilst twitching his nose.

"We was robbed Mr. Bunny . . . " The Magician whispered as he glanced back up at the pair. Sire was now doing all the work, and Wick was spread eagle against the crimson silk sheets. She was a luscious woman, and even more so without clothing. The Magician licked his lips as he watched her being pleasured. Her grunts of euphoria sent tingles down his spine. He wished he could do that to her.

He only knew of the pleasures . . . well pain and pleasure he caused back in his mortal life. Something he now atoned for. He knew he shouldn't have liked _them _that young, but he couldn't help himself. The ample flesh of the little girls he adored was like a drug. He was hooked immediately. Something about being incredibly older than Wick turned him on like those kiddies had.

A falsetto crescendo sounded in the tent adjacent from him along with a baritone growl following as the slapping of flesh quieted down. The Magician's hands tightly gripped Mr. Bunny's hide as he seethed from his corner. His grimy hand wrapped around the bunny's neck as he listened closely to their heavy breathing. He could see the exhaled breath leaving the tent as Wick curled into his side.

"You're my favorite, you know?" Sire mumbled to young Wick.

"Why because I'm a sweet fuck?" She retorted.

"No," He started as he went to sit, and caress her cheek with his twisted nails. "you are not a sheep in wolf's clothing, you have glorious glow, and you are a hellish spite-fire." He smirked with painted black lips and yellow teeth behind him. Wick grinned flirtatiously at him, and then wrapped him in her porcelain arms.

Mr. Bunny gurgled in his grasp as his neck snapped effortlessly. The Magician swiped at tear from the corner of his eye, and then took off into the misty morning.

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_Author's Note - I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	7. Hart in the Ox-Stall

_**Chapter 6 - **Hart in the Ox-Stall (Nothing can escape the Master's eye . . . )__  
_

Lucifer wasn't a man of secrecy. Well, secrecy was always sport for him, but he liked _knowing _the secrets. As he fumbled with his ascot gazing lethargically at the mirror as Wick adjusted her clothing. He could even see The Magician far glowering behind another tent strangling the oddly cute yet dead rabbit. Now he was a case all by himself. Dark Wick came up behind him, and placed feather light fingers at the base of his neck, which made him shiver. She stared into the mirror herself, and caught her reflection. She made a few sultry faces in the looking glass before glancing at Him.

"Was it good for you, Sire?"

"It's always good for me." He retorted immediately as he plopped down in his chair. Soon Wick followed him into his chair, and straddled him with her white arms around his neck. He grumbled at the sweet gesture, and captured her hand in his clawed one, digging his nails in viciously. "Wick, be a dear, and fetch that mischievous Magician?"

Wick snatched her hand away whilst painfully hissing, and then retreating from the Master's chair. "Yes, Sire."

He noticed her kick a few thing angrily as she exited his quarters, but he paid no mind. He chuckled to himself as he admired the brush in his hand. He heard the timid clicking of The Magician's boots as He brushed the make-up across his face. He could hear the heavy breathing of the fool, and He just smirked lightly at his terrifying ways.

"Did-did you want to see me, Sire?" The Magician stuttered quickly with his falsetto voice. Lucifer stood on strong legs, and turned on his heel. As he approached the Magician he could see the trickster was getting very nervous. Lucifer placed a calloused hand on the back of his server, and grinned lightly.

"Me thinks you've been a curious kitty in my visits with the darling Wick. Have a few cents on that note?" Lucifer asked whilst letting his claws dig into the velvety cape.

"Uh . . . uh what are you talking about?" The Magician giggled loudly as he backed off away from Him, and fidgeted with his top hat.

"A liar deceives no one, but himself!" Lucifer screamed as he wagged finger. The Magician quivered, and fell down onto the bed. Suddenly he realized what had taken place on that, and he jumped up with a noise of disgust. "You, fool, are the epitome of cowardice and prudence! Next time I should be charging you to spectate a class act like that! Now you get out, and clean up the stalls!" He continued hollering as he threw a glass at the retreating Magician.

"You come back here in need of something, you blighter! I will ring your neck!" Lucifer growled as he slammed the door, and a puff of smoke went up in his face. He seethed as he lifted his delicate chair in his hands, and then projected it across the room. It smashed into splinters and nails, and he continued on over to his make-up station.

"Who adorns the horns? You do, you are the tyrant. You are the Ringmaster." He whispered to himself before plopping to the floor in a fit.

"Who am I kidding? I'm just a berk_** [1].**_ I can't do anything." He croaked into his desk. He slammed his hands against his desk in anger before standing.

"If that fool wants a tyrants, he'll get a damn tyrant. A damned tyrant." Lucifer concluded as he turned back towards the door, and started on his path towards tyranny and destruction.

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_[1] Berk is a term in Britian for an idiot._

_Author's Note : I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


	8. The Eagle and the Cocks

**_Author's Note: I am not what so ever religious, but I did look into what I wrote about. Do not be offended by some remarks in my writing. Very short chapter too._**

**_~T_**

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**_Chapter 7 - The Eagle and the Cocks _**_(Pride comes before a fall . . .)_

Beautiful was this day. How beautiful it was . . .

The one high Angel, tall with ropy muscles and he who had a smirk of triumph did not believe this was a beautiful day per usual. His strut was something that should belong on a cat walk - all eyes should always be on him. He was after all the most beautiful.

God spectated from his high throne as the mighty angel he called Lucifer looked down at all his peers. It was something that was bred into the angel not taught. God often wondered why his most prized angel acted this way - why he was a such a disappointment these days. Lucifer was something that he adored . . . something that should have been taken for granted, but the Angel himself takes everything for granted.

His attitude is what angered God the most.

He often put down his mighty Lord with ideals that were not suited for the high heavens. His ideals were hellish to say in the least hurtful words. It scared God, yes it scared the all mighty Lord that this deviant had this idea that he was going to take over. No, not today. No more was this hellish miscreant going to disobey his Lord!

"Lucifer!" A loud bellowing voice called high above. The blue eyed dark haired angel cast his eyes on his leader, and smirked egotistically. He then bowed mockingly with a hand behind his back.

"Yes, Lord." He said sarcastically as he stood tall with a smug smile on his face.

"I have had enough with this intolerable attitude!" God growled as he took a few steps down from the large throne. Lucifer cackled madly as he flipped his hand in annoyance.

"Don't trip on your beard on the way down." The young angel retorted with sass. God fumed once he reached the bottom. He was meaning to discard the beard lately, but he had too busy with his _highness _over here.

"You are dishonorable and above all a sinner!" God heard a few gasps as he called his most favored angel.

"And what sin might that be, Good Lord?"

"Pride." God said simply as he circled the young angel who merely gulped. "You are a scoundrel and nothing more. You the first envious, prideful narcissist I have met. You deserve nothing here."

"I deserve everything!" The angel boomed as he whipped around to face the dutiful God. "I _am _the most powerful! I _am _the most helpful and I can make this a better heaven than you will ever make it!" Lucifer seethed as he stomped around. It reminded God of a five year old throwing a temper tantrum.

"I am the most beautiful . . ." Lucifer said with a cracking voice.

"You aren't today." God spoke truthfully as he rested both his hands on Lucifer's strong shoulders, and watched his cry out in pain.

"What are you doing to me?"

"You will never be beautiful again. You will hide behind a mask everyday and you can be a leader - just not here."

"No! You can't do that!" Lucifer screamed as he fell to his knees, and cried out at the intense pain radiating in his muscles. He looked down at his hands noticed the crimson color they had turned. He stood, and lashed out at God who in turn just side stepped the not so beautiful angel he had created. This thing was a demon, and sinned like one.

"Forever you will parade around in the depths of the underworld. You should forever be alone because of your grotesque looks. No one will ever love you, you horrible creature." God finally said before using his hand to push _Satan _from him, and cast him down - down to Hell.

* * *

_Author's Note : I do not own anything The Devil's Carnival related._


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